When Rules Are Rules And Five Easy Pieces Becomes Reality
A few weeks ago I visited my doctor for a routine, annual checkup. On the door, there was a sign that said: Please call this number to make an appointment for your appointment. There was no number to call, nor did I understand the message. I already had an appointment, so why did I need to make another?
Regardless, I masked up and entered the clinic to find a young woman, about 20 perhaps, seated behind the frosted sliding glass counter doors. Appearing miffed she asked me why I didn’t call for an appointment? I said I had an appointment, whereupon she told me you had to have an appointment to walk into the building where you had your appointment.
Feeling like Jack Nicholson trying to order a sandwich in Five Easy Pieces, I asked this young woman how I would know to do that? In her most impatient and arrogant manner, she explained all of the information was on the door. Because I was in a good mood, I patiently explained there was no phone number on the door, and the information on the door made little sense, flashing a smile so the youngster wouldn’t think I was “yelling” at her.
She was irritated, and I was becoming irritated, and when I pointed out I was there, and the only patient in the place, the pompous Clerk Ratched set her mouth in a no-nonsense line, crinkling her forehead into a frown, telling me again rules were rules and I couldn’t enter the building for my appointment unless I had an appointment.
I grew weary of this exchange and told her I had no intention of making an appointment for my appointment as I was already in the building, and would wait until called for my real appointment, which happened almost immediately. Another young woman, looking like she belonged in High School, came out, holding a chart, and called my name, “Michael” as if she had known me for decades.
I smiled nonetheless and said that’s me, walking in behind her, heading to the dreaded scale. At this point, the irascible Clerk Ratched pointed out to the doctor-nurse that I didn’t have an appointment and had to have an appointment, whereupon the doctor-nurse said to her: “we don’t need to worry about that now.”
The angry clerk slammed the frosted doors and could be heard mumbling about rules being rules, no doubt to the nodding chorus of the rest of the clerking team.
When all was said and done, I realized I was no longer in a good mood, and, for a moment, considered talking to the nasty clerk’s supervisor, but dismissing that thought as something that would only piss me off more and I might even say ‘fuck’ which would cause me to lose the high ground, so I left the building I hadn’t made an appointment to enter in the first place.
[…] John Scott at MadMikesAmerica has an irritating encounter with an officious clerk at a Doctor’s office. Something about violating obscure rules by simply having an appointment, rather than first setting […]
I sometimes get by with suggesting to the offending person that they should consider an anatomical improbability.
At least I’ve usually left before they figure out that they have been insulted.
LOL! LOL! I’ll remember that 🙂
Mike, I don’t believe you. You say “fuck” more than anyone I know. It is like the Amazon show. you use it as a noun, a verb, and an adjective. You probably use it as a preposition but I can’t figure out how. I am just not that smart.
Well, fuck Bill. I had no fucking idea 🙂
Recently I was informed that I needed to text a person to make an appointment to call them because calling them on the phone without an appointment was too intrusive. Whatever happened to simply picking up the phone and handling calls on the fly?
A few days later at another business I was informed that I would need to call the manager on the phone, leave a message, and my number, on the answering machine and she would get back to me so I could make an appointment to discuss arranging a meeting.
As it turned out it took a week to arrange a meeting where she informed me that she couldn’t find the paperwork and I would have to schedule another meeting to find out what I needed to know.
I get the feeling that a lot of jobs are now more about managing the work to suit the convenience of the employee than doing any actual work. My mother was a civil service secretary and I don’t remember any of this nonsense back then. She picked up the phone when it rang. Answered questions on the fly and handled two and three problems at one time.
I’ve been through that as well, and I can’t imagine things will get better. On the contrary, I expect they will get worse.
You must be an athiest typ because they swear all the time, and curse OUR LORD. Libs are mostly these typs.
LOL! Yes. I am an athiest typ but would never curse YOUR LORD, although I do say God Damnit a lot. That’s OK right? I mean God does damn things, and it’s not like I’m cursing YOUR lord.
Fuckity fuck fuck. My field of fucks to give is all dry and barren right now but don’t despair, my field of fucks will come alive again and I will have more fucks I can hand out before I have no fucks to give again. Hopes this helps you, because you are in obvious need of help since you are an insurrection supporter that currently I have no fucks to give.
Fuckity fuck fuck. My field of fucks to give is all dry and barren right now but don’t despair, my field of fucks will come alive again and I will have more fucks I can hand out before I have no fucks to give again. Hopes this helps you, because you are in obvious need of help since you are an insurrection supporter that currently I have no fucks to give**.
*** you. Don’t you just hate when you’re being all snide you forget a word or three. AYUP I have no fucks to give about that.
I fucking hate when I miss a fucking word.
Right? Some motherfuckers need to learn and I am here for that.
I don’t yell FUCK either. at least not in a public setting. (my neighbors may have heard it now and then though, nearest is 3/4 mile away) . But “Oh Shit” rolls off my tongue pretty easily. And “this is bullshit” is not far behind. If I’m really upset it may be fucking bullshit.
The only thing age has mellowed on me is my filters!
I find that my mouth confuses and breaks my brain at times.
I had my first appointment in a year a few days ago. The dreaded scale indeed. I have been on a diet for a month because although I don’t weigh myself often (at all) things were getting tight. I thought I had been successful since things were loosening up, but no, the cute young thing in scrubs announced that I’d gained 10 pounds. I didn’t say fuck, but I’m sure you could read it on my face. I’m sure everyone says what I did “thats scale’s way off!” and I’m sure everyone gets that look, but whadda ya know? When I got home I got on my scale (carefully calibrated) and the doctor’s was 10 pounds off.
Sometimes you come home from the doctor happy!
I had my Mayo Clinic doctor admit they deliberately set their scales high so as to encourage patients to lose weight. They were not accurate at all, at about 10 pounds off, as you observed.
You didn’t lose your temper and start yelling FUCK?
LOL! Nope. I think age has mellowed me my friend.